


Inheritance

by Jaded



Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Force-Sensitive Jyn, Prompt Fill, This is possibly the closest I will ever get to writing fluff, Vignette
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-27
Updated: 2017-03-27
Packaged: 2018-10-11 15:25:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10468170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jaded/pseuds/Jaded
Summary: What if Lyra Erso had been a Jedi who had survived Order 66? What if Jyn had inherited her mother's Force sensitivity?





	

Her father had been a genius, and her mother, a Jedi.

 

  
What did that make her?

 

“The hero of Scarif,” Cassian whispers into her bare shoulder, pulling her closer in half sleep. His answer is both wry and earnest, and she relishes the way she can feel the upturn of his lips against her skin. “And you are Jyn Erso,” he breathes, which to him is the only answer that matters.

 

“We met once when were young,” Chirrut tells her later, and he speaks with the certainty of men of great faith. “I remember her now, Lyra. She had come with other pilgrims from Aria Prime. She had a different name then. She was young. Younger than even you are now. ”

 

“Before my father?” she asks.

 

“Before many things.” Chirrut tucks his chin and melancholy floods his face. “Before Order 66.”

 

Jyn knew of the history of Order 66, if only through the way Krennic had taunted her mother after too many drinks back at their tiny apartment on Coruscant in the years before their family had fled to Lah’mu. He’d tried to take the kyber necklace from her neck, but her father had stepped between them, cooling the anger before one blasted the other through the transparisteel windows. She hadn’t understood it then. She understands it now.

 

“I never knew,” Jyn says. “She never said. I knew she was a believer, but I never knew she had been a Jedi. How could she have never have told me?”

 

“You never sensed it?” Chirrut asks.

 

“Sensed?” Her mind blanks.

 

“Have you never wondered, Jyn, why you are able to move so quickly and so fluidly during attacks, how you can anticipate how your enemy will move before they do?”

 

“I was a child soldier, Chirrut. I’ve had more training than the entire new recruiting class combined.”

 

“And at sixteen the best fighter among a class of warriors,” he says of her time with the Partisans. “Is that not what Saw told you? Did you ever wonder why that was so?”

 

“What are you saying?” She resists the answer because she knows the answer. There’s already too much for her to handle in her life as it is. How is she supposed to even begin to process this? Her father the architect of a destroyer of worlds. Her mother, a myth to her all over again.

 

“The Force moves through you in the way it did your mother. Perhaps not as strongly, but stronger than it does for me. Do you not feel it?” He walks over and reaches for her hand. “You should consider what that means.”

 

They sit for a long while in silence, Chirrut content, Jyn in turmoil.

 

Cassian drifts in looking for her as it nears the midday meal and touches her chin to ask a silent, _What’s wrong?_ She shakes her head, not ready yet to talk about it, and he is content to wait, resting next to her, letting her hand drift into his.

 

When Luke Skywalker appears in the entrance way to the room, blue eyes curious, Chirrut stands up, leans on his staff, and says, “I’ve asked someone to speak to you about this. I hope you do not mind.”

 

+

 

As she and Cassian fall asleep that night nestled beneath a pile of blankets and skin to skin, he curls a hand around her naked waist and murmurs into her hair as he begins to fall asleep. Jyn is wide awake though, and pulls his arms around her tighter.

 

The light in their quarters is dim but not off, and Jyn stares at the console and clears her mind. The switch flicks down completely as she thinks it, and the hush she hears is within herself.

 

“My mother never told me so many things,” she says in the darkness. “She never even had the time.”

 

“She would have, if she had had the chance,“ he says.

 

Jyn considers her next words careful. “What if a child of ours has this … gift?”

 

“Ours?” he echoes, his voice faint and wistful.

 

She burrows deeper into the blankets and closer to him and turns to look him in the face. “Yes,” she says, and places a soft kiss on his brow. She is unsure of many things. He is not one of them.

 

She feels the smile again against her shoulder and he answers. He tells her a story of what they would do, how they’d love their child, guide them with their hands, tell them tales, and live for them, and Jyn drifts calmly to sleep, at peace with the Force for now.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> I have another prompt in my inbox about writing a story about Jyn and Cassian having a Force-sensitive child and debating whether or not to send him/her to Luke Skywalker for training, so this story _might_ continue in that direction (thought it might not).


End file.
